


oh, the glory of it all was lost on me.

by frostfall



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Canon Divergence - Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Fix-It of Sorts, M/M, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Suicidal Thoughts, Survivor Guilt, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-03-08 15:55:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18897868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frostfall/pseuds/frostfall
Summary: There are so many things Steve wishes they could’ve talked about – Siberia. Bucky. Tony's parents. All the could’ve beens, should’ve beens, would’ve beens. He can’t believe he left so many things unsaid, so many loose ends between them.Most of the time, he doesn’t have the energy to wonder, only fixating on one thing.I wish we had more time.(Steve and the aftermath of Endgame.)





	oh, the glory of it all was lost on me.

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from "Light Years" by The National.

 

 

 

 

 

He’s the one to carry him out of the battlefield.

Rhodey wanted to. Insisted even. And he should because he’s Tony’s best friend, loyal to the very end.

Not like Steve who fucked him over.

But Steve is the one with the serum and not Rhodey so he does it instead.

Tony is heavy in his arms and he’s dead and lifeless and he’s never coming back.

Steve could barely make out the kid sniveling and Pepper sobbing and everybody murmuring because he’s too busy trying hard not to drop to his knees and scream.

Because it should’ve been him. It should’ve been fucking him.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Guilt is a terrible and unpredictable force. It’s why he shouldn’t be surprised that it fuels the flames in his heart.

It takes several grown men to restrain him from wrapping his fingers around Strange’s neck.

He’s screaming. Steve knows he is. But he isn’t sure what because everything doesn’t make sense but he doesn’t care because Tony is dead and Peter said it’s Strange’s fault. It’s all Strange’s fault Tony did what he did and he never said, never _fucking_ said—

Strange remains passive but there’s regret written on his face. Whether it’s sincere or not remains to be seen. “It was the only way.”

Steve wrenches free from the fingers wrapped around him, marching over until he’s nose-to-nose with Strange. “You should’ve told him.”

“It wouldn’t have worked.”

“Then me,” Steve answers, suddenly weary and feeble. “You should’ve told me.”

Strange purses his lips. “You wouldn’t have survived long enough to do it.”

A lump forms in Steve’s throat. “Was it really? Was it really the only way? If I hadn’t…”

Somebody lays a hand on his shoulder. He shrugs it off.

Strange exhales deeply, his face contorted in pain. “Yes.”

Finally, the tears come.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

He locks himself in his room for the next couple of days.

Steve should be out there, helping everyone get ready for the funeral. But he doesn’t because everybody insists he rests.

He knows what they’re saying behind his back, how he doesn’t deserve to be here. That Tony should. That if Steve had told the truth long ago, Tony would still be here.

“Steve,” Bucky murmurs one evening, holding a tray of food, “you need to eat.”

There are bags under his eyes and his hair is unkempt. If Steve’s in the right mind, he would’ve haul him off to bed.

But since he isn’t, he turns on his side and pulls the covers over his head.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Before the funeral, they play a message.

Steve had refused when Pepper invited him inside. He’s not a part of Tony’s family. He’s not Rhodey or Happy or Pepper. He shouldn’t be here. He has no right.

But Pepper’s Pepper and before he knows it, Tony’s right in front of him.

Talking. Laughing. Smiling.

Like he never left.

“I love you three thousand,” he tells Morgan before he vanishes as quickly as he had appeared.

Steve turns away, eyelids fluttering shut. For a moment, he could pretend it’s for him.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

As the leader of the Avengers, Steve has to step up on the podium.

It’s already bad enough he has to shoulder the coffin. Now he has to make sure he doesn’t break in front of the world.

Tony has always been the man of words, Steve the man of action. It’s unsurprising that Steve ends up fumbling through his speech.

Later, he’ll read about it in the press. The majority fawn over him, America’s darling again. Several would talk up about how much of a fraud and hypocrite he is. A couple would speak about his words being out of character of him.

But none of their opinions matters because Tony is dead and nothing makes sense anymore.

At the end of his speech, Steve is supposed to say how Tony’s the heart and soul of the Avengers, Earth’s Best Defender. Shit like that.

But there’s something about it that doesn’t sit right with him so he crumples the card in his fist.

“And I loved him,” he finishes, but then corrects himself because it’s a lie. “I _love_ him.”

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

There are so many things Steve wishes they could’ve talked about – Siberia. Bucky. Tony's parents. All the could’ve beens, should’ve beens, would’ve beens. He can’t believe he left so many things unsaid, so many loose ends between them.

Most of the time, he doesn’t have the energy to wonder, only fixating on one thing.

_I wish we had more time._

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

One Tuesday evening, Pepper invites him over.

Steve would’ve declined the offer had Bucky and Sam not forced him out of his room and drove him over.

As soon as he takes a step inside, he almost falls apart. Morgan’s in a corner sprawled on the floor, drawing with a red crayon, humming under her breath.

It’s all his fault now Tony exists in drawings. It’s all his fault now Morgan has to hum metal music to herself. It’s all his fault he ripped away the last shred of Tony’s happiness from him.

“It should’ve been me,” he whispers into his mug later when she’s tuck in bed. “I should’ve run to him. Took the Stones. Knocked him out. Or… Or…”

Pepper’s expression is full of warmth and love. Steve could see why Tony fell in love with her.

“He left you a message,” she says softly, taking his hand in hers. Her touch is warm too. “I wanted to show it to you earlier but I... I thought you’d want to see it alone.”

Steve swallows thickly, dropping his gaze to the table. He wishes she’d stop looking at him like that.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

A week later, he presses play.

And just like that, Tony’s in front of him again and everything is too real and not at the same time.

“You know I recorded this a billion times?” he begins, dressed exactly as the day he returned Steve his shield. He waves his hand in dismissal. “Well, technically fourteen times but eh, schematics.”

Steve couldn’t help but snort in spite of his tears.

Tony exhales deeply, staring off into the distance. “I don’t know why I thought this was a great idea. I mean, I’m gonna be seeing you soon. But you know, I’m a coward. Can’t say shit to your face half of the time.”

_No, you’re not. You’re one of the bravest people I know._

“And by the way, 'time heist'? _Really_? It’s a terrible, terrible name. Please tell Lang to change it.” Tony chuckles. “Anyway, I don’t really want to leave any loose ends just in case this time travel shit leaves me trapped in the Middle Ages. Or in some weird void. Or something. And yeah, I'm babbling, fuck. Did you know I actually wrote a script from this? Can you believe it?”

He's laughing, all bright and boisterous and then so is Steve because it’s contagious as fuck and god he’s crying again.

He has lost his mind.

“I've never been good at sticking to a script. But with you? It's way worse. A million times worse. I always hated that effect you have on me.”

Neither of them speaks for a long moment until Tony takes a step forward.

“You know I love you, right? I always have. I always will. And I wish… I wish I wasn’t a coward. I wish I told you. Before everything. Before, you know… And I know you don’t feel the same way. Probably don’t. I mean if you did, things wouldn’t have ended the way they did.”

Steve chokes on a sob, furiously shaking his head because he’s right and wrong. So fucking wrong.

Tony throws his hands in the air. “Doesn’t matter now anyway. That ship has sailed. I mean, I don’t regret Pepper and Morgan, but you know. What ifs.” He pauses, his brown gaze soft and earnest. “I forgive you, you know? For everything. Siberia. Barnes. My parents.”

No, he shouldn’t. Tony should hate Steve. He left him to die in Siberia, he chose Bucky over Tony, he lied about Howard. He doesn’t deserve this. None of this.

“Tony—”

“It could’ve been you. It really could’ve.” Tony sighs as he brandishes a pair of sunglasses. “But not in this life, I guess.”

And then he's gone.

He's gone. He's fucking gone.

And he never knew, never knew how Steve felt about him. 

It's his fault, it's his fault, it's his fault, it's—

“I’m sorry,” Steve croaks long after the message ends. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Did you know?”

Pepper nods solemnly. Steve cries into her shoulder.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Then it’s time for him to leave.

Bruce tells him he’ll be back in seconds. Steve doubts that he’ll even come back.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Morag is uneventful, void of life with the exception of Peter Quill.

Steve feels a pang of guilt as he sidesteps him. In this life, Gamora won’t be there to meet Quill, for both of them to be a family, to break and mend each other’s hearts.

Then again, it could be a blessing. Steve should know. Some things aren’t worth having your heart broken over.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The last person he expects to meet is Johann Schmidt on Vormir.

When Clint returned alone, he had told him about a “red-faced bastard”. But never in his wildest dreams would he think it’d be him.

Various thoughts pass through Steve’s mind, things he wants to do Schmidt for ruining the lives of many innocents, Bucky’s. Even his.

Instead, Steve takes a tentative step towards the edge. It’s a lengthy drop. He wonders if she’s still down there.

“If I…”

“No.”

He pauses. “And if I...”

Red Skull barks out a hearty laugh. “That is not how things are meant to be. Besides, you bear no love for me, Captain. Nor I for you.”

Steve flashes him a wry smile. He's tempted to sock him in the face. “It was worth a try.”

He tosses the stone into oblivion and doesn’t look back. He has better places to be than here.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

He meets Frigga as soon as he leaves Jane’s room.

“Captain,” she greets him warmly. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

Steve thinks of her fate and suppresses the urge to hurl. He wonders if Thor told her when he was here.

Mjolnir weighs heavy in his grip.

“The pleasure’s all mine, Your Majesty.”

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Steve returns the Time Stone and the Scepter after. The Tesseract is a lost cause, gone with Loki. He wonders what kind of timeline has been established.

The Ancient One doesn’t divulge, mysterious as Bruce described her to be. Steve couldn’t help but wonder if Tony found Strange as frustrating.

“It is not your battle to fight, Captain,” she tells him as he places the Scepter next to his counterpart’s unconscious body. “Nor his.”

“Is it Thor’s?” Steve asks.

She pins him with a neutral look. He sighs and pulls out another vial of Pym’s particles.

For the millionth time, he hesitates.

“Captain,” the Ancient One begins, firm but kind, “I think it’s best you leave.”

He does so before he could stop himself.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

He’s in and out of Camp Lehigh before he knows it. Steve only pauses to make a quick stop at Pym’s.

After all, he has somewhere to be.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Steve almost breaks down when the front door opens.

Peggy Carter’s gaze roams over him, strong and steady like the remarkable force she is.

Oh, how he misses her.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

They laugh and drink and dance into the night.

She tells him of life after war and the man that she let into her heart. He returns with stories of the future. Peggy makes a promise to keep an eye on Howard. Just her words alone lift a huge weight off Steve’s shoulders.

“I wish I could stay,” he sighs later when his feet ache and his throat sore. He glances around, taking in the rustic furniture and the gramophone quietly playing Sinatra. It’s familiar. He misses familiar.

Peggy watches him, stirring sugar into her tea. “You could,” she muses. “But you won’t.”

Steve laughs, the first one in forever. “You still know me so well. Even after all this time.”

She raises her teacup, a grin playing on her lips.

“Even after.”

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

He leaves, but not to where he should be.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

After Loki and the Chitauri, Steve goes on a road trip to see modern America. He visits tourist sites, eats in cheap diners, and sleeps in dingy motel rooms.

And that’s where he ends up at.

Unsurprisingly, other-Steve pounces him.

It takes some time to calm and sit him down, much more to explain and pour his heart out. When he’s done, he’s met with silence.

“How can I know you’re speaking the truth?” other-Steve finally asks, shoulders stiff and gaze suspicious.

Steve wonders if he’s always been like this. Maybe Tony’s right. He does have a stick up his ass. Deeper then.

“You don’t. You have to trust me.”

Another lengthy pause stretches on, the television set filling in for them. It’s one of the Star Trek movies, the newer ones. Steve likes them. Tony doesn’t.

“He is insufferable.”

Steve laughs, tears threatening to spill out. “He is. But you’ll learn to love him.”

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

There are many instances when he thought of doing it. Staying.

Steve could easily find his frozen self and makes sure he never comes back. Take his place in the ice. Let him be found. Find his way to Tony.

He could, he really could. But he won’t.

Because all Steves deserve happiness too. And maybe, just _maybe_ , there’s a Steve that won’t make the same mistakes he did.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

And just like that, he’s back.

Several seconds has passed. Nothing has changed.

“Welcome back,” Bruce says warmly.

Steve manages a weak smile.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Then comes the difficult part – moving on.

It’s like the Snap all over again – Steve helping other people to move on, only for him to be left behind. And he shouldn’t. He should take his own advice and heal. It’s just not healthy.

But then he hears AC/DC on the radio, sees red and gold graffitied on walls, inhales warm shawarma, and it’s just so fucking hard.

Going on missions make things worse. Everybody keeps a watchful eye on him because he’s more reckless now. More than he ever has been. 

A reckless leader is a terrible leader in Steve’s book. He's made reckless decisions, decisions that destroyed everything he built. Which makes this decision one of the easiest things he’s done.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Me?” Sam splutters, staring at the shield in horror. “I can’t. Steve, _no_.”

They’re in the kitchen, bottles of beer on the countertop. It’s one of those nights Steve wishes he could get drunk.

“You can,” he insists, his arms still outstretched. “I can’t think of anybody more worthy.”

Bucky clears his throat loudly. Steve nudges him in the ribs, rolling his eyes.

Sam blinks. “…You sure?”

“Very.”

A light grin spreads over Sam’s lips. “You sure you ain't drunk?

“You know I can't get drunk.”

“That means I’m the drunk one,” Sam declares before taking another swig.

A couple of bottles later, Sam starts yelling about how he’ll be the best Captain America in the universe. Wanda pokes her head inside and asks him to shut up. Bucky records the whole thing on his phone, even the part when Sam pukes all over the shield.

Steve has never laughed so hard in a long time. It’s a start.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

After that, things get easier.

Steve isn’t sure when it did. Maybe it’s because he’s no longer Captain America.

Maybe it’s because of the door he finally reopened, allowing people to walk back into his life.

It could be that. Now he’s the mediator of Sam and Bucky’s petty squabbles, has dinner with Pepper and Morgan on Friday nights, lets Peter talk his ear off during lunch when he’s in town. He even organizes movie nights and dinner for every member of the Avengers every fortnight.

But maybe it’s because Steve has finally learned to embrace the present. Steve is willing to bet all his money on that.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Some nights, he dreams of his regrets and mistakes because he is Steve Rogers and he doesn’t think he can truly let go of the past.

But then he reminds himself of timelines and the present and then, he's at peace again.

He’s adamant that there’s at least one timeline that has him worthy enough to love and be loved by Tony Stark. And he’s okay with it not being this one.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Decades past. Steve isn’t who he used to be and before he knows it, it all comes to an end.

Devilish brown eyes come to greet him when he passes. Steve’s heart skips a beat.

“Took you long enough, didn’t you?”

Steve laughs, young and healthy again. “What can I say? I am an old man.”

The kiss he gives Tony is both exhilarating and calming. It feels like coming home.

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this story. I was kind of intimidated of writing this because I don't know if I could capture the characters' personalities right. But here it is, out in the open, haha.
> 
> I'm also on [Tumblr](https://kapteniron.tumblr.com/) and [Twitter!](https://twitter.com/kapteniron)


End file.
